“Long gone.” Thank goodness.
Fab coasted up to where the van had been parked and surveyed the damage, her phone out the window, snapping pictures. “What the heck just happened?”
“You might want to ask your friggin’ client,” I said in disgust.
“I know what you’re thinking…” Fab sighed.
Your client set us up for an ambush?
“Mr. Todd is eighty years old and told me straight out that he was afraid of the tenants.” Fab exhaled heavily. “Told me that a guy in a suit showed up, made a good impression, and he couldn’t get the lease signed fast enough. Said the ink was barely dry when the riff-raff made an appearance.”
I was familiar with that con.
“He saw people come and go, and in his opinion, they didn’t stick around long enough to transact any business. He just wanted them gone and no problems.”
“Wait until Didier hears the details you left out,” I said. “And he will hear because Creole will be fuming mad.”
“I gave him most of the details.” Fab pouted.
“When rodents fly. If you had, he would’ve spoke up and I wouldn’t be here now. Creole would’ve dragged me home.” Which I wouldn’t have been averse to. “Sirens are getting closer; I suggest you step on it and not a mile over the speed limit.”
Fab cruised slowly away from the curb, not wanting to miss anything.
My nerves were strung out at what we’d just witnessed. I picked up my phone and texted Creole, “Love you.”
Fab picked up her phone and, after connecting, hit the speaker button. “Mr. Todd, this is Fabiana Merceau. I was unable to serve the notice. There was a fire, and the building has suffered severe damage.” The firefighters had arrived and begun to hose it down.
“Damn criminals,” he shouted. “What the heck happened?”
“What kind of criminals?” Fab demanded. “You held out on me once, and I suggest that you not do so now.”
“They liked to pay in cash…”
First clue that something shady is up.
“Turned out to be counterfeit. My bank caught it. Thank goodness I knew the teller and she didn’t report it. I confronted them and they denied it. Liars,” he spat out. “In the meantime, I got one of those pens that can detect funny money. The next month, I went in person to collect, and they shoved me out of the office. Turned out none of it was any good, either. I tried spending it twenty at a time but got paranoid about getting caught. Now, I’ve got a stack of phony greenbacks.”
“Take your loss and stop trying to pass it off around town,” Fab lectured. “You could land in jail.”
“That’s why I stopped,” Mr. Todd insisted. “Jail scares me. I haven’t ever been and don’t want to start now.”
“Do you have fire insurance?” Fab asked.
“I’ll need to call them, won’t I?”
“The good news is that you can rebuild. And get all new tenants.”
“I…uh…thank you.”
“Before we hang up, it would probably be a good idea to claim ignorance about the events of the day, and whatever you do, do not share your tenants’ criminal tendencies. That could invite more trouble.”
They hung up.
“I don’t suppose that you’re going to triple bill an old man. But you do need to decline any further business from him,” I offered my two cents. If I heard Mr. Todd’s name again, I would refuse to ride along. “I’m crashing from the adrenaline rush. You need to buy me a lemonade.”
“Make that two, and I’ll take mine with a shot of vodka.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
A week later, Fab called and threatened to hunt me down if I didn’t show up for yet another meeting at the office. She was vague on the agenda and who would be in attendance but clear that I needed to stop at the bakery and pick up the lunch she’d ordered. I scored a parking spot in front of the cafe and caught sight of Lucas Mark, then did a double take, recognizing the man sitting next to him as Dilwen Nash. My first sighting of the two men together a couple of weeks ago had left me unsettled. It appeared that the lawyer had no standards when it came to choosing clients, and I was rethinking being involved with the man in any way.
I backed out of the space before he noticed me and pulled around the back of the building, parking and going inside. It didn’t take me long to fill two of the famous pink boxes with cookies, adding them to the order. I slowed going out the side entrance and saw the two men still engrossed in conversation.
It was a short drive to the office building. Hitting the gate opener, I drove inside and paused, waiting for the gate to close. Fab and I had agreed that would be a good idea, here and at home. My phone had rung on the way over, and I’d ignored it. Glancing at the screen, I saw the missed call was from Lucas, and my neck hairs stood on end, which was something I tried not to ignore. For now, I didn’t have a plan, and that bothered me. I grabbed the shopping bags and started the hike up the stairs.
“Hey, boss.” Xander bolted out the door and relieved me of the bags, taking them inside. “What should I call you? Mrs. Westin?”
“That used to be my mother.” I laughed. “Call me whatever you want, as long as you’re nice about it. No name-calling.”
“Gotcha.”
“How did your day at The Cottages go?” I asked, taking the bags from Xander and setting them on the table. “Mac was entertained by your visit. Says you have a sense of humor.” I waved to Fab, who was in conversation with Toady.
“It was a bit overwhelming. Lots of odd personalities. Not knowing what to say, I made jokes, and the more stupid stuff I said, the more your tenants laughed. Doesn’t take much to keep them entertained.”
“Learn anything?” I asked.
“Brushed up on my people skills.” Xander grinned. “Spent most of my time in the office, updating Mac’s computer. There were a few things she’d ignored, only because it overwhelmed her, so I passed on a few tips. Told her to call with any questions.”
I went into my own space, admiring my new desk before setting down my bag.
Xander followed me. “Got along really well with Professor Crum.”
Of all people. “Did he have any words of wisdom?” They’d better not be something illegal.
“He said he was surprised I’m not the stupe he’d expect you to hire.” Xander rolled his eyes. “Wanted to know if I had a title. Said otherwise, I’m just a stooge. I told him I was vice president. He burst out laughing.”
“No laughing without my permission,” Fab grouched with amusement. She’d crept up and now stood on one side of the screen.
“That’s no way to talk to the new VP,” I admonished, then waved everyone over to the kitchen area, eyeing the table, which was strewn with cards and a pile of pennies. “Gambling at work?”
“Toady and I got here early,” Xander reported. “I finished up the Dilwen report and put it on your desk. Rather than stare at one another, we played a few rounds. I won fifty-five cents.” He grinned.
“What’s my title?” Toady blustered.
“Chief Muscle,” I said without a pause.
He smiled wide, his gold tooth front and center, and flexed his arms, displaying an impressive amount of muscle. “You betcha.”
His antics reminded me of the stolen reptile. “What’s the update on the alligator?”
“Stupid kids.” Toady snorted out a breath of air. “A prank gone south. Once they had the gator in their possession, what to do with it rapidly became a dilemma. Afraid of it, which they should have been, they let it go, and it crawled into a neighborhood lake.”
Toady had everyone’s attention, and we were all wide-eyed.
“Called animal control and they relocated it.” Toady cracked his knuckles. “As for the thieves, I scared the hell out of them. Told them I better never hear their names mentioned in connection with another crime.”
Xander let out a nervous laugh. “That’s the last you’ll hear of them, unless they’re even more stupid than they
sound.”
I turned to Fab. “I’m assuming you have a written agenda for this meeting?” I couldn’t imagine why a meeting was necessary, except that she was relishing her role as dictator boss. “Rolling your eyes will give you wrinkles.” I patted my forehead.
“Your mother made that up.” Fab motioned for us to sit.
I laughed at her. “That wouldn’t surprise me.” My phone rang—the lawyer again. All eyes were on me. I put my finger to my lips and answered, putting it on speaker and hoping he didn’t notice. “How can I help you?”
“Two things. I’d like a more in-depth background check run on Nicolette Anais,” he said in a brusque tone. “Dig into her past. I want to know everything there is to know.”
“And the other?” I asked, hesitant to hear the answer.
“It would be more expedient if I dealt with the information guy directly, so if you could pass on my request…”
“We’re like-minded on that one. I planned to speak with the man in question later today.” I jabbed my finger in Xander’s direction. “He doesn’t do friendly, so you’d have to agree to do everything electronically, no meet-and-greet. Otherwise, he won’t agree.”
“In the meantime, pass along the other request with a rush on it.”
We ended the call.
“I’m perfect to be the nerdy guy in the basement,” Xander said with excitement.
“My regular guy wants to use me as a middle man, fielding these information requests to maintain his anonymity, and I thought maybe it would be a good side gig, but now I’m not so sure.” I shared what I’d seen at the bakery.
“Dilwen again,” Fab said in disgust. “I’m sick of hearing that name.”
“The cops don’t have anything new on Butthead.” Toady tossed his soda can, missing the trash. He got up and slam-dunked it, then grabbed another. “You’d think it was an everyday occurrence, finding a body in a dumpster.”
“No mentions online, either,” Xander said.
“Update on Brick,” Fab said.
Why couldn’t he just go away?
“Toady was offered a contract to repo cars—Brick’s branching out and acquired several new accounts. The catch: he doesn’t want me finding out. He’s using the baby as an excuse.”
“Fab’s pregnant,” I said for Xander’s information.
Xander looked shocked, eyeing her up and down.
“Put rent-a-baby on your ‘to find’ list,” I said. “Fab’s going to need one unless she fesses up to her mammoth lie. Which I doubt.”
“Got it covered.” Fab looked quite proud of herself. “If Brick asks, which I doubt, I’ll say Didier’s babysitting.”
“I was going to say, the only kids I know are in their twenties and live hundreds of miles away,” Toady said as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom.
Xander and I laughed.
The door flew open and hit the wall. Two suited men, each with one hand inside their jacket, walked in, bodyguards for the man behind them—Dilwen Nash. Even the bodyguards didn’t own the space the way their boss did. One stayed by the man’s side; the other moved around the office, kicking a chair out of his way and sticking his head behind the screen that separated off my area.
“Hello, ladies,” Dilwen said, dominating the room with his mere presence. “And whoever you are.” He nodded at Xander. “I’m certain no introductions are necessary. You know me by reputation anyway.” His dark eyes were cold and mean, and his smile sent a chill down my spine. There was something deadly about him.
We’d made a point of staying off his radar, yet here he was, icy calculation directed at Fab.
Let’s hope she doesn’t provoke him.
“How did you get in?” Fab demanded.
How in the world did he even find the office? It wasn’t under Fab’s name and no one had followed me there.
Dilwen ignored Fab’s question, eyeing her in a way that would have Didier blacking his eyes if he were there. “Imagine my surprise when my lawyer informed me that he’s using your company for investigations.”
“How can I help you?” Fab seethed.
“I want everything you have on Nicolette Anais.” He flashed his perfectly white teeth. Moving over to her desk, he flicked a file open with his finger, giving it a cursory glance. “Including pictures, videos, and any and all files on the woman from the doctor’s house and her apartment in South Beach. I’ve heard you’re thorough. Don’t disappoint me.”
No mention of the beach house.
“I gave everything I had to your lawyer.” Fab had partially unleashed her creepy-girl smile.
Xander pushed his chair back.
One of the men whipped out his gun and aimed it at his forehead.
The blood drained from Xander’s face. “Would you like a cold drink?” he stammered.
“Shut up. Don’t move,” Dilwen ordered. “Sorry, kid, you’re in the wrong place, etc. Bad timing.” The silent menace in his words was loud and clear. “Madison Westin. I hear you have interesting connections.”
“I have friends in the alternative rung of society.” I felt fairly certain he had a passing acquaintance with at least a few of the same quasi-criminals.
“I’m not certain how much information you two managed to dig up on Nicolette, but it’s a loose end I can’t afford.”
My stomach churned and settled in a hard knot. “If that’s a threat, I’m certain you’re aware that I’m related to Jimmy Spoon. You wouldn’t want to make him unhappy.”
“Something to do with his old lady.”
If I weren’t so nauseous, I’d have laughed. Mother would kill him.
“Spoon needs to be put in his place,” Dilwen said, his voice as cold as his glare. “I’m the man for the job. Now that he’s a leader in the community, he thinks he don’t stink like the rest of us entrepreneurs.”
Fab and I were packing but didn’t have the remotest chance of drawing our weapons and getting a shot off. That left Toady and the pair of shooters he never left home without. I hadn’t noticed before, but the bathroom door was cracked open.
“If you’re worried that your name came up during our investigation of Nicolette, I can assure you that it didn’t,” Fab told him. “Her history was pretty much a bore. I’d be happy to copy the files to a drive for you. I don’t keep paper files on anything.” She smiled grimly. Fab’s ability to stay calm during a life-threatening situation was something I admired.
“We’ll take your laptop.” He motioned to one of his men, who walked over to her desk, slammed down the cover, and shoved it under his arm. “I’m certain it’s a fount of interesting information.”
Let him discover for himself that he’d find little of interest. Fab kept everything on an external hard drive. I knew because she continuously harped on the subject.
“Take it and leave,” Fab said with a flourish of her hand, annoyance tightening her face. “We’ll pretend this little meeting never happened.” Her easy acquiescence only confirmed what I knew about how she stored files.
“We won’t be seeing one another again. Not in this life.” He unleashed a hair-raising laugh. “My men will clean up. No one will know we were even here.” His voice was frigid, devoid of emotion.
How many times had he ordered someone’s death in the same matter-of-fact way?
Xander’s hands twisted in his lap, and he appeared ready to puke, his eyes focused downward.
The bathroom door opened. Toady stood in the doorway, an ad for a tropical Wild West cowboy, with a gun in each hand and a deranged, maniacal sneer on his face. Shots rang out. Before the bodyguard who had his gun out could shoot back, Toady blew a hole in his shoulder. The gun clattered to the ground, the man grabbing his arm.
“You and your goon, drop your guns,” Toady ordered.
Dilwen opened his suit jacket and drew his weapon, handing it to his guard, who leaned down, laying both guns on the floor.
Fab, who was already on her feet, kicked them under her desk.
&nb
sp; “No one, and I mean no one, threatens my girl,” Toady ground out. “You want to walk out of here with your balls intact, I suggest your men not do anything more stupid than they’ve already done.”
“Do you know who you’re threatening?” Dilwen’s voice lowered to a growl and cracked like a whip.
“I could ask the same question.” Toady matched his arrogance. “Frenchie, what do you want me to do?”
“Go ahead, call the police,” Dilwen taunted. “You’ll be the one on your way to jail. Calling me here, threatening me, and then shooting one of my men…”
I wondered how he was planning to prove that we’d made a call we never made. The phone company kept logs, after all.
“Let them go,” Fab said. “No one’s going to jail.”
“You sure?” Toady asked in disbelief. “I can make them disappear. It would be my pleasure to grind them to bits that would never be recovered…and if the cops managed to find a spoonful, it wouldn’t be enough to test.”
“Threats and more threats,” Dilwen sneered.
If they walked out the door, we’d be forever looking over our shoulders.
“You boys caught a lucky break.” Toady’s voice dropped in a low warning. “Word of caution—one hair on either of these women’s heads is disturbed, ever, and you’ll die, one body part at a time.” He cackled, which drew wide-eyed stares from the bodyguards. “This better be the last any of us ever sees of you, if you value your lives.”
Dilwen face was red with anger as he stomped out. The uninjured bodyguard helped the other to stand straight and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him out the door.
An engine roared to life below. Fab peered out the window. There was a loud crash and scraping noise, and she winced.
“That ass just hit the gate, even though it was standing half-open.” Fab grimaced. “The only good part was that it took out the passenger side of his ride. Good luck getting the doors open.”
“I’ll figure out how they got the gates open,” Toady assured her. “It will not happen again.”
“They’ll be back,” I warned. “A man like Dilwen, always in charge, it will eat at him until he gets even.”
Overdose in Paradise Page 24
